If a child is all you see in me

than so be it
thats your loss rather than mine

for you have chosen not to look deep enough into my soul

to where the wild flowers grow
and the secrets are bottled up tight


You have not taken the time to appreciate the human being I have come to be

The one with the scars on her ankles
and the bruises on her knees


My soul tells the stories I'm to afraid to say

but the respect of another can unleash them all

you'll be able to watch them slip away into the sky

only for you to catch them